Sonnet
by wrestlefan4
Summary: His was a lonely life and exceedingly misunderstood, the only real moments of happiness for him, lasted in memories that spurred him on. Severus was on no side. All he did, he did for love. Young SS/LM mentions of SS/Lily. Slash.


Sonnet

Lucius Malfoy, book tucked under arm, set out into the shadows of Hogwarts with intent gleaming in his stoney gray eyes. His pale blond hair brushed his cheeks as he moved through the quiet slumber of Hogwarts, towards his destination. He was sure that his friend would be waiting for him, and he was correct, as usual. His lips curved into a small smirk, as his gaze fell upon the slight form of Severus Snape. The boys black hair and clothing blended with the night darkness that kept their secret meeting. A slant of moonlight bent through a tall window, and it was this that fell onto Severus's pale and pointy face, seeming to make it glow in a manner that was practically ghostly.

Lucius stepped past Severus and reached for the door, but when he turned the knob, he found that it was locked. Severus already had his wand drawn, and said the charm in his head. He enjoyed the look of surprise that graced Malfoy's features when a minute click sounded and the door swung open without so much as a syllable having been uttered.

Lucius stepped into the empty classroom with the proud square of his shoulders and the snobbish demeanor that always accompanied him wherever he may be. Severus followed, a thin and ghostly boy who lacked all the imperial graces of a Malfoy. Severus waved his wand in a perfect motion to close and lock the door behind them.

Curiosity was what had driven Severus to meet his fellow Slytherin in an empty classroom while all others were sleeping. Lucius had made up some ridiculous front about studying, though Severus was too clever to believe it entirely. He could find few logical reasons that studying with Lucius would be best taken place in a such a close-lipped manner, unless Lucius had some secret to share with him, and why would he? Had anyone other than Lily or Lucius proposed such an idea of a secret night meeting, Severus would have refused in apprehension that he was being set up for some sort of prank, or trap, as he had become the target of such malicious things since they day he had boarded the train to Hogwarts for the very first time. He could not say that he trusted Lucius, but he mistrusted him less than most.

Lucius strode to the heavy desk at the front of the deserted classroom, and took a seat upon its edge after dusting it off in a manner that was practically dainty. Lucius patted the empty surface next to him, urging Severus to sit by his side. Severus moved towards the desk, his eyes always on Lucius's glittering metallic ones. Lucius's fine, moonlight hair, wreathed his attractive face like soft steamy strands slithering upwards from a simmering potion. Severus sat down and startled slightly when Lucius moved closer, bridging the gap that Severus had deliberately left between them. Lucius's thigh touched his, invasive yet warm and oddly desirable. Not many would wish to share such intimate space with Severus, he knew this. Such a subtle gesture both confused and warmed him.

The leather of Lucius's book whispered against his clothing as he pulled it from the cradle of his arm, and passed it to Severus. Small white hands took the heavy book and the title was made known in the moonlight. The book had nothing at all to do with magic, dark or otherwise. It was no book of the wizarding world at all. Severus stared down his nose at the letters on leather, and then looked up at Lucius questioningly.

"Shakespeare?"

"Yes..." Lucius admitted, glancing at the books cover as well, and then at Severus, their eyes meeting in the darkness. "Yes, it is. I suppose it isn't the sort of study you were expecting, but I must admit that I rather enjoy the sound of your voice. Wouldn't you read for me, Severus?"

"I...don't understand...this is a Muggle book."

Lucius scowled.

"Don't remind me, you'll ruin the moment."

Lucius reached for the book, and opened it out onto Severus's lap, their hands brushing one over the other. The room was intensely quiet, as Severus's black gaze fell onto the dimly lit words of the sonnet the book had been randomly opened to. It did not seem to matter to Lucius what was read, only that it was read to him by Severus, who for the life of him could not imagine why.

"Very well."

Snape tilted his head downwards towards the pages, curtains of his black hair falling forward to hide most of the profile of his face, but only the jagged curve of his nose. He began in a soft voice, one that Lucius found perfectly accented, one which lingered on or emphasized each word in a way that was sensuous without even knowing it. There were not any classically attractive traits handed down to the boy next to him, but if one were to actually listen to him, instead of tease and torment, they might hear a soft voice full of passions that were simply waiting to be uncaged. Severus could not be as cold as he came off to be, at least not through and through, Lucius thought. Much of it was only the reflection of what icy state others had driven him to. Lucius understood such harsh training, as his father had brutally trained him out of any sort of boy he might have been on his own, and into the desired form of the Malfoy elitist.

Severus read, his eyes ever tuned to each word, not noticing the small smile of the blond sat next to him. Lucius's eyes were half closed beneath near-white lashes, as he listened to a voice that no one else ever really heard.

_Let me not to the marriage of true minds  
>Admit impediments. Love is not love<br>Which alters when it alteration finds,  
>Or bends with the remover to remove:<br>O no! it is an ever-fixed mark  
>That looks on tempests and is never shaken;<br>It is the star to every wandering bark,  
>Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.<br>Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks  
>Within his bending sickle's compass come:<br>Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,  
>But bears it out even to the edge of doom.<br>If this be error and upon me proved,  
>I never writ, nor no man ever loved. <em>

There was the minute rustling of a tissue-thin page as Severus carefully turned it. Lucius's finger's brushed against Severus's cheek, the light touch catching Severus off guard and causing him to jump. He turned his head to meet Lucius's gaze, and Lucius swept the long black locks away from the pale face. Each touch was exhilarating and defiant, as Lucius's breeding and upbringing would exclusively forbid such intimacies with one who was all things hated: Severus was the son of a Muggle man, making him a half-blood, and not just a half-blood but a poor and ugly one. All of these things should have revolted Lucius as surely as Pavlov's dog was to salivate at the ringing of a bell, but in this one thing Lucius allowed himself to waiver from family tradition and values. Why that was, he did not know, but all teenagers have their secret trysts, in that Lucius was no different from any other. Severus's down-turned lips curled slightly at Lucius's touch, not into a smile, but as accompaniment to the wince Lucius received for his action.

"Come now, I only wanted to see your face." Lucius assured him, and reached his fingers to touch the ebony hair once more. Severus took Lucius's hand instead, and lowered it, resting them both against the desk.

"No one wants to see my face." Severus said, lowly, tearing his gaze from Lucius's cool stoney eyes. He looked instead upon their hands, his which still sat atop Lucius's. Reluctantly, Severus curled his hand away from the one beneath his. He felt undeserving of such a simple gesture, as even his closest childhood friend was drawing her mild affections away from him these days. He found no other source of such attention, not from friend or family, nor at the school of wizardry where he had wrongly hoped that he would be accepted and relieved of torment and abuse. Instead, Severus had only learned that Muggles and magical folk were alike in their cruelties. "I know what I am." He added, painfully.

_Ugly. Unloved. Unwanted. Alone, and lonely: _Severus's mind was not at lack for adjectives.

"No, no you don't know what you are." Lucius snipped, his eyes growing even colder. "You know only the lies that others assault you with, from day to day." Lucius took Severus's hand back, uncurled it, and linked their fingers together. "You, Severus, are brilliant. You are not boyishly pretty nor ruggedly handsome, but you are _intense_. The curve of your lips, the slant of your nose, the endless depths of your impossibly dark and burning eyes...all of these are things that others take not the time to see, and although such traits might drive others away, they can do nothing but tempt me, _endlessly_."

Severus could not begin to wrap his mind around what Lucius had just said. Malfoy had most obviously lost his bloody mind. The words coming from Lucius's lips spoke of things foreign to Severus, and how they could possibly be meant for him he could not fathom. His mind stumbled for some way to process, or something to say, but all he could get out was a gasp of astonishment, which was instantly stolen away when Lucius leaned further forward and pressed their lips together.

Severus assumed—as much as he could think at all under the circumstances—that this would be a quick kiss, lips to lips, and then done. That would have suited him, he thought, as close contact was something he desired and yet it unsettled him, as he was not at all used to it. He found Lucius's mouth however, lingering against his own, which dumbly did nothing to respond. He meant to push Lucius away, but his arms had decided to hang limp and unresponsive instead. Severus had never been kissed, and the feeling of such a thing at a moment he least expected it had shut down many parts his mind, while awakening other parts of his young body.

Lucius's lips nudged, soft and warm and wanting against Severus's astonished mouth. Lucius's hands buried themselves into hair as black as the night that surrounded them, and pressed their lips together harder, his tongue flicking out to taste Severus's and urge them open.

"Severus..." Lucius hissed against the frozen lips, his own curving into a smirk. "I am aware that I am quite the amazing snogger, but I did not intend to leave you comatose."

"You..." Severus breathed, barely able to find words, but still able to muster the sarcasm. "Would only leave me comatose should that big head of yours crush me with your arrogance." Severus could feel and taste Lucius's breath, warm and sweet, their mouths still sinfully close. "You must have misplaced your mind, as anyone with even half of one would certainly not be-"

As much as Lucius enjoyed hearing Severus speak, he had found something which he enjoyed even more. He pressed his lips once more to Severus's, interrupting and stealing the rest of Severus's words. This time the younger boy responded to Lucius's wanting lips, warily at first, and then as Lucius knew he would—hungrily. Severus could only withstand it for so long, but Lucius gave him credit for even trying to resist the irresistible.

Severus opened eagerly, and he found himself surprised at how he had so easily dropped his defenses for Malfoy. His body was making these decisions for him more than his mind was, and the thought in itself was discomforting, as Severus had long practiced the building of walls and facades as they seemed like his only means of obtaining some sort of defense against those who would be his tormentors. The only other person who had easily breached those walls had been the redheaded girl who was steadily distancing herself from him. He had been smitten with her from the day he'd lain eyes on her, and he had allowed her to touch his heart—no not touch it, but hold it—with the foolish trust of a child that he had never been.

This breech that Lucius had found had more to do with a boy and a body deprived of attention, than a heart that had fallen into a devoted love at the tender and risky age of nine. Though all was not lost with Lily Severus had the feeling as of late as sand slipping through fingers, and he was not one to believe in fairy tales. He was a realist, and reality was bleak and gray and cold for all the Severus Snapes of the world. Boys and men like Severus Snape did not get The Girl. The Girl would always belong to those louses who were the James Potter's of the world. Princes claimed princesses, and trolls lived bitterly under their lonely bridges. Severus Snape was not a prince, no matter what silly nickname he might have given himself in his extensive notebooks.

Their mouths continued to seek from one another, and Lucius's hands began to roam, pawing at Severus's second-hand clothing. Lucius's fingertips brushed against the bony exposure of Severus's shoulder as part of his shirt was undone and slide aside. The brush sent heat through the whole of Severus's body, and fire to his cheeks and groin.

"Lucius—" Severus managed between gasps. "Lucius, don't." He pulled at his clothing, covering his pale skin with the fabric.

"You must stop being so modest." Lucius went for another portion of clothing, this time revealing the white concave of Severus's belly, a dark dimple in the middle waiting to be tongue-teased. With a quick motion, Severus covered that as well. He slid from the desk and backed away from Lucius, his thin arms protectively hugging his torso as his hands clutched at various points of his clothing.

"Don't." Severus spat, back on his guard, and trying very hard to ignore the gathered heat down below. "Don't be cruel, Lucius. Don't joke and toy with me!"

The light of the moon slanted down through windows and fell onto Severus's face which had taken up a characteristic snarl. His black hair stuck to his forehead and thin cheeks, which were still aflame in great contrast to their usual colorlessness. Severus's eyes were so dark, flashing deeply with both lust and defiance, and that only served to urge Malfoy on in his pursuits.

"You're wrong." Lucius said, sweeping from the desk and coming to stand over Severus. He grabbed one of the boys hands and lodged it firmly against his straining pants. The small hand molded to cup Lucius's hard desire. Lucius moved Severus's hand, rubbing, both of their eyes narrowing as pleasure at the feeling coursed through both of them. "Does this feel like a joke to you, Severus?" Lucius continued to move Severus's hand, making a wonderful sound in the back of his throat as the contact and curious squeezing drove him mad. "It feels to me, like a beast of a cock-"

"Yes..." Severus's head tilted down to watch the bulge grow as he toyed with it.

"Hard, hot, hungry..." Lucius gripped Severus's chin, and tilted it up so their eyes would meet, flames against flames.

"_Obviously._" Severus answered, as his deft fingers worked at Lucius's clothes, and he now allowed Lucius to work at his as well.

Soon they were left naked in the moonlight, their clothes cast off to the floor, second-hand and rich-finery mingled together in garment piles that knew not the importance of status or blood. Their bodies too were not so different, one thinner, whiter, younger, but still the bodies of two young men who desired to find some sort of place in the world that was not put upon them by others. In having each other they could, for the night, forget that they were filthy rich, filthy poor, pure, contaminated, gorgeous, and ghastly. In most that they were, they were complete opposites, and only one in the unhappiness that the labels of society had hung upon them, and the expectations or lack thereof that such labels so harshly implied.

Their limbs and bodies tangled, hot and wet and needy, back onto the desk that they had previously abandoned. Severus's back lay against the surface as Lucius' hung over him, beautiful hair tickling Severus's less-than-beautiful face. Lucius prepared Severus's body with his thick spit and slender fingers, loving the way Severus's inky eyes rolled deliciously back from the pleasure, his back arching, his hips wiggling, seeking for more and never wanting such a good feeling thing to end.

"It's going to hurt." Lucius warned, as he continued with his fingers and used the ones on his other hand to smooth sweat-stuck clumps of hair away from Severus's heated face. "First time always does, and well I..." Lucius glanced down at his erect part, and then back to Severus's face, his own bearing the unmistakeable glow of Malfoy pride. "I have been gifted." He finished, and removed his fingers from Severus's tight body.

Severus watched as Lucius spat into his palm, and slicked himself up for the final preparation.

"Pain with pleasure, I assume, is much better than pain alone." Severus answered, his eyes not leaving the large organ that was due to enter his body. "I would like to find out."

"Impatient." Lucius hoisted Severus's long, slender, legs upon his shoulders, and pressed against his entrance. Severus gasped, a delicious shiver coursing through his entire body.

"_Yes._"

The two of them united, one filling the other, and both rising until there was no more holding back; just giving in and letting go to the pleasure that flooded their bodies atop a darkened desk, in an empty classroom, in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

-/-

Many years later, Severus had found that Lucius too had drifted from him. Although he had never grown to love Lucius the same way in which he had first loved-Lily-he was a devoted friend and held the man dear to a heart that most assumed was amassed of nothing but ice. It was a rather cold heart, made so by the loneliness and rejection he had become acquainted with at a very young age, and never really been able to overcome. But it was not an entirely frozen heart. Emotions, however, had to remain carefully in check as one who worked undercover for both sides had to be guarded at all times. His was a lonely life and exceedingly misunderstood, the only real moments of happiness for him, lasted in memories that spurred him on. His motivators were not the black-and-white choice of one side or the other. Severus was on no side. All he did, he did for love and loyalty to the red haired girl he had loved—and to Lucius, his closest friend, in protecting his son.

Now Severus made his way to meet The Dark Lord, listening to the sounds of the night and casting a glance back over his shoulder at the castle. So many memories, most of which he wished to forget, all of which haunted him endlessly.

Severus turned away, and very soon he reached the Whomping Willow where he would seek entrance to the Shrieking Shack, using a spell on the tree to immobilize its deadly wooden arms.

He paused watching the tree against the night gloom, naked branches twisted and skeletal. Part of a poem he had read long ago, came to his mind and escaped from his lips on a whisper.

_...O no! it is an ever-fixed mark  
>That looks on tempests and is never shaken;<em>

_It is the star to every wandering bark,  
>Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.<em>

_Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks  
>Within his bending sickle's compass come:<br>Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,  
>But bears it out even to the edge of doom...<em>

It was an ironic poem Severus had read that night to Lucius. The words had spoken so knowingly of the red-haired girl whom he had never failed to love no matter how his dark interests, James Potter, or even death had driven them apart. Tears prickled his dark eyes, but he held them back. He must be stoic one last time, for he felt with overwhelming certainty that he would be betrayed once again. He found that he welcomed the last stabbing knife, for in death perhaps he could finally find solace from the crushing burdens of this life—and the mistakes he had made, one in particular that haunted him always.

Severus squared his shoulders, the night breeze lifting strands of his onyx hair to brush at his doomed features.

He was ready.


End file.
